REUNION WITH A FRIEND (IN SEOUL)

           for Leif Karlen

We entered the food tent that evening

upon my arrival…  I remember oily-plates

warming us from the late autumn chill,
or a fire somewhere, & the embers' pulse   

like fireflies in summer, when you felt

sick & went inside, & the sizzling meat,
the healthy-buzz of a couple chatting at a booth  

nearby.  Our soju came in green bottles

& the shot glasses (translucent as jellyfish
in moonlight) felt slippery in our hands,
the cool singe of alcohol jogging our brains
& this unexpected-situation, it was almost
odd not to question, this uncanny feeling
of familiarity, & a friend you had met elsewhere,

so distant it seemed now, & to find your-

self here, in the dim-evening lit by lamps

when the atmosphere almost oozed, &

the world distilled into an occasion I never

guessed would become a memory, until

evoked some instance later on, as if not

by my own volition.  I watched the dog-star

flicker, muted through the roof, & wra-
pped lettuce-leaves around slabs of
grilled-bacon.  The air redolent of garlic

& my friend focused on his soju, or what swam   

in his mind, as I let work within me

the hum of liquid-experience.  So much
we'd left unsaid, & yet a lambent ache
in the heart, at that moment of rest,

when all your life had raced by, it alm-
ost hurt to think, that life didn’t
need to be a battle…